Early this morning, we begun the 8 hour drive to Brisbane. The car is loaded with heat packs, bags, pillows, nerves, and hope. Every KM closer to the hospital feels like a step toward relief, toward answers, toward a body that no longer feels like it’s betraying me every single day.
When we arrive, I’ll check into the hotel across the road from the hospital and do my best to rest. I know sleep will be difficult with tomorrow weighing heavy on my mind, but I’ll try. Because when the sun rises, I’ll wake up and walk toward what I hope will be my last surgery. But as everyone who lives with endometriosis knows, there is no true “last”. This is a lifelong illness, and nothing is guaranteed.
I won’t lie, I’m scared. I’ve been through this before. I know the risks, the uncertainty, the recovery that lies ahead. But I’ve also lived the reward. I know what it feels like to wake up after surgery and realise the pain is quieter, the bleeding lighter, the weight a little easier to carry.
So I’m holding onto that possibility. The possibility of more time. More life. More days where I get to feel like myself again.
As I head into this next chapter, I carry the strength of everyone who has stood beside me… my family, my friends, my workplace, and every person who has read my words and whispered, “me too.”
Today begins the road to healing.
The War Inside My Womb 
Leave a comment